


Home Again

by missigma



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: F/M, Teenscast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missigma/pseuds/missigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Zoey back at Blackrock Hold, things are returning to the way they used to be. There are mushrooms to meet and eat, and Rythian has missed Zoey very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Again

Rythian knelt on the newly repaired marble floor, again tinkering with his infernal armor. It was no longer as unstable as it had been when he first created it, but it was still rather prone to accidental explosions. The mage wanted only to craft some sort of safety, but was finding it quite impossible to do so.

“Rythian!” the front door clicked and creaked open. A great wind swept through the hallways, shaking the door in its frame. Then it swung shut, abruptly shutting out the cold again. Zoey scurried inside, bare hands held up to her mouth as she tried to warm them. “Rythian!” she sang, pulling her cloak tight around her.shoulders.

She didn’t really expect an answer from him, knowing that the mage was likely engrossed in his work. So she skipped through the corridor to the magic room, tiptoeing over the pieces of plate armor that had managed to make their way into hall. Then she threw her arms around his hunched shoulders. Rythian flinched, startled by her sudden touch. He had thought himself alone right up until her arms had encircled him.

Oblivious to his surprise, Zoey pressed her cheek against his back. “Good morning, Rythian!” He relaxed and looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ve brought some friends inside to join us for dinner,” she searched inside the pouch she kept on her hip, one arm still slung around the mage’s neck. Rythian clutched the gem from his chestplate against his chest, trying to keep from jarring the delicate object too much.

“Here,” Zoey stood up, several red spotted mushrooms in her hand. She placed them in the dark corners of the room before standing back to admire her handiwork. “I have a bunch more around here somewhere, but I was thinking that they could help in the kitchen.”

“How could they even help? They’re just-” Rythian bit his tongue with great effort. He sighed and rose, carefully tidying up his work. “Are you going to tell me in a few days that they were actually spies plotting to kill us?” 

“Spies?” Zoey squeaked. “No, of course not! They’re from the Independent Republic of Mushrooms. They’re neutral.” She crouched in front of the mushroom nearest to the condenser. “No, he wasn’t trying to offend you, Mason. He’s just not that well informed on current mushroom politics.”

“Ah,” Rythian pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. It really was a lost cause. “Can I get you anything to help with dinner?”

“I haven’t even decided what to make yet,” Zoey scrunched up her lips as she thought. She squinted at the mushrooms around her. “Maybe you could make some bowls?” 

“Sure,” Rythian nodded, following behind as Zoey hurried off to the kitchen. He leaned back against the counter, watching her place a few more speckled mushrooms on the floor. The mage crafted half a stack of bowls with his philosopher’s stone, quickly shaping the wood in his hands. 

Zoey retrieved a massive pot and made her way to the furnace. Rythian paused in his crafting, wondering belatedly if he should help her lift it. Now it was too late, she had already heaved it up onto the top of the furnace. She stoked the furnace with a bit of coal and turned to him. “Water,” she said. “Do you have any water in there?” she tugged at the alchemy bag that hung at Rythian’s waist.

“I should, just a moment,” Rythian replied, his arms full of bowls. “Do you just want these on the counter?”

“Yeah, that’s good,” Zoey shuffled back to let him pass. She scuffed her toe against the floor as she waited. After searching for a moment in his bag, Rythian handed her a large bottle of water, sending her back into motion. “Sure would be nice to have running water,” she mused.

“I could do that with magic you know,” Rythian said as he always did. 

“Sure you can,” Zoey nodded, disbelieving. Still, she smiled at him. “Could you chop these?” she placed a few handfuls of mushrooms on the counter. 

“You sure about this?” Rythian examined one, wondering vaguely if it was poisonous. “They aren’t your friends or something?” 

“They’re volunteers,” Zoey answered, now much more interested in her stew. 

“Volunteers,” Rythian muttered under his breath. “Of course.” He cut the mushrooms and brought them to Zoey. “Wait,” he pointed into the pot, realization suddenly dawning on him. “Are your…uh, guests going to eat this?”

“Hopefully, if it turns out well,” Zoey stirred the pot. “Do you think they’ll like it?”

“Wouldn’t that be like cannibalism?” Rythian asked, seeming almost concerned. 

“Of course not,” Zoey covered the pot. “These are brown mushrooms.”

“Oh. Right. That totally makes sense,” Rythian muttered sarcastically, going back to stand against the counter. Zoey leaned past him, grabbing a few spices from the shelves. She kissed his cheek as she passed and he abruptly forgot the mushrooms, smiling a little.

It was hours before the stew was done and dinner had ended. Zoey had gathered up the mushrooms that has populated the fortress and brought them into her underground laboratories. She had murmured something about a meeting and Rythian had remembered his resolution not to ask questions this time. 

“It’s cold down there,” Zoey rubbed her arms as she emerged from the basement an hour later. Rythian looked up at her from the couch where he had been reading. “Really cold,” she walked over to him.

“Here,” he held out his hands for hers. She let him take her left hand and press it between his warm palms as she sat beside him. “What have you been working on?” he asked. He now clasped her right hand. 

“Oh just, you know. I need more power down there since I want to make some more awesome armor. So I made a few more watermills.” Zoey paused as Rythian pressed his masked lips to her hand. She smiled at him and promptly dismissed the subject. “What are you reading?” she rose onto her knees and shuffled forwards to peer at the book, which had now fallen into the crack in the couch. 

“Mostly things about teleportation,” Rythian stroked the spine of the book. Zoey settled against his side, already nearly in his lap. “There’s a few things about infernal armor though. I was hoping I could find something that would help,” he trailed off as he felt her tug at the knot that secured his mask. Zoey pulled the fabric away. He froze for a moment, always afraid that even after all this time she would cringe at the sight of him. 

Zoey kissed his scarred lips and he relaxed. He slipped his hands onto her waist, pulling her over to straddle his lap. She deepened the kiss, resting her hands on his chest. Rythian reached up and slipped her goggles off her forehead. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. Zoey sat back on his knees, ducking her head in a moment of shyness. “And I’ve missed you so much,” Rythian continued. The mage carefully tucked her hair behind her ears. Then he leaned forward and kissed her again.

She broke away from his mouth after a long moment, pressing kisses along his jaw to his ear. Rythian gasped softly when her lips touched the sensitive shell of his ear. “I missed you too,” she whispered. He tipped his head back as her mouth moved down his throat to his chest. Zoey stretched the collar of his shirt downwards, allowing her to kiss a little lower. “Here,” Rythian sat up. He removed his cloak, then pulled off his shirt. He dropped both on the floor behind the couch.

The technomage smiled and leaned back in, eagerly kissing the newly bared skin. Rythian slid his hands up her shoulders, finally reaching the clasp of her cloak. He undid the clasp, allowing the scarlet fabric to slide onto the floor. Then the mage slipped his hands up the back of her top. She pulled back from his chest and lifted her arms so that he could pull it over her head. 

He hastily undid the hooks of her bra. Her kisses made him clumsy, but it was not much longer before that garment found its way to the floor as well. Rythian cupped her breasts in his hands, gently brushing his thumbs over her nipples. She gasped lightly and put her hand on his shoulder, bringing him closer. 

His lips found their way to her warm skin. Rythian’s tongue skidded across her nipple, before he closed his mouth around her flesh. Zoey moaned, a light and breathy sound. She put a hand in his hair and rubbed her fingers over his scalp. The mage continued his attentions to her breasts, stroking and massaging one while his tongue explored the other.

Then Rythian moved on, slipping his hand down the front of her trousers to touch her. He pressed two fingers against her hot, slick flesh. Zoey moaned again, leaning against him. Her hair fell into her face as she rocked her hips into his hand. “Feels so good,” she breathed, lips moving against his shoulder. Zoey worked her trousers down her thighs and he pressed his fingers inside her. She whined softly, still pushing into his hand. Rythian worked his fingers in and out of her quickly, while she dug her fingers into his bicep. After a moment, Zoey came, whole body tense against his.

She sagged against him, before momentarily breaking all contact to remove the rest of her clothes. Rythian watched her, forgetting that he should do the same. Zoey’s neck and cheeks were flushed, and her hair was mussed from where she had rolled her head against his shoulder. 

She reached for his fly as soon as she sat back in his lap. Rythian lifted his hips, allowing her to pull both his trousers and his boxers down. Zoey quickly wrapped her hand around his cock. She looked up at his face as she pumped him, finding his eyes half-lidded. Rubbing her thumb over the head, she moved forward. Then she guided him inside her. 

The mage groaned, bucking his hips up into her. “Shit,” he whispered. Zoey gasped, immediately grabbing his shoulders to brace herself. She kissed him briefly, before lifting herself up. With a quiet whimper, she slid back down. Her pace was steady as she continued. Rythian put his hand on her hip, drawing her closer still.

“Hold onto me,” Rythian directed. Zoey put her arms around his neck. Still inside her, Rythian set her down on the couch. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. Rythian pulled her legs up onto his shoulders, hips now moving faster than she had. She arched her back, moaning as he picked up his pace. Then he came and swore even as his voice failed him.

He found space beside her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her. She turned her face into his chest, still catching her breath. Rythian idly traced his fingers over her tattoos.The mage smiled and pressed his cheek against her head. They lay together, still and quiet with their legs tangled together. Then they dozed off.


End file.
